


The Life and Times of Albus Severus

by Windybird



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Albus Severus is a total BAMF, F/F, F/M, James Sirius living up to is namesake, Lily Luna being a cute lil mofo, M/M, Multi, Teddy Lupin being a teddy bear, a blue-haired teddy bear, but a teddy bear nontheless, but also really deep teen angst, wacky shennanigans, we're talking deeper than the Great Lake here, which Victoire likes to snog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6691237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windybird/pseuds/Windybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hogwarts is x5000 harder when you're Harry Potter's child. Dealing with the aftermath of the Ministry of Magic and fighting off Death Eaters that will stop at nothing to kill your friends and family isn't a piece of cake, either. Add teenage angst and unrequited love and you've got the recipe for pure, undiluted disaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The train's engines was loud beneath Albus's feet, but his heart was louder, a rhythmic beat that was undoubtedly going to end in cardiac arrest frantically pumping behind skin prickled with goosebumps even though it wasn't cold.

Behind her stack of textbooks balanced precariously on her lap, Rose reached over to give him a reassuring squeeze on his knee, to which he returned with a pained smile. Although his cousin may've been calm and collected, Albus had been up until 3:00 A.M. last night, tossing and turning as his imagination ran wild with all the adventures he was bound to have. Discovering magical stones worth more than a thousand Galleons, saving pretty girls from his dangerous arch nemesis, befriending Hippogriffs and soaring through the air on the latest broomsticks… Well, he imagined that it would be something akin to that, anyway. His father’s stories had rattled through his brain, resonated within himself. Albus could hardly wait to go traipsing through the Forbidden Forest, battling a giant three-headed dog named Fluffy, exploring secret chambers below the school… and of course he’d bring Rose and James along with him, he’d need sidekicks to aid him in his adventures (he wasn’t going to tell them that, though. He wasn’t so sure James would be too ecstatic to hear his little brother calling him a sidekick).

Looking around the compartment, he saw James and Victoire having a particularly loud debate on whether or not the Chudley Cannons would win the World Cup this year. Beside them sat a cluster of gingers- Roxanne Weasley, and her cousins Lucy and Molly- all animatedly chattering about what they thought the D.A.D.A. professor would be like this year. Albus tried not to smile when he saw the streak of purple in Roxanne’s dark hair- she’d been experimenting with Muggle dyes that utterly damaged her hair lately, much to Aunt Angela’s disapproval. Her brother, Fred, was in another compartment with his Quidditch buddies, practicing new strategies for the sport during the new school year, Roxanne had informed them with a roll of her lively brown eyes.

The room was so crowded that Albus was practically sitting on Rose’s lap the entirety of the journey there, apologizing when his back slammed into her nose as the train made a sharp left turn. Rose retaliated by jamming the edges of her books into his spine and smiling serenely when he turned around to give her a dirty look. He grinned at her. The nervous ball in his stomach was beginning to ebb when Lucy suddenly turned to him, warm brown eyes studying him from a pale, freckly face.

“What do you think, Al?”

“Hm?”

“What House do you think you’ll get into?” She asked mildly. The ball of nerves came back full-frontal. He shrugged, feeling extremely uncomfortable, and looked out the window, avoiding his cousin’s probing brown orbs as he watched the snowy landscape outside the compartment. James picked up on his discomfort and grinned. “He’s afraid he’ll be Sorted into Slytherin.”

“Oh, Albus,” Rose scolded exasperatedly, “how many times do I have to tell you that Slytherin is a perfectly fine House to be Sorted into and you shouldn’t let your ninny of a brother cloud your judgment?”

“Whatever you say, Aunt Hermione,” James gave her a sly look and turned back to Victoire, picking up their inane discussion of Quidditch. Rose frowned at his profile, looking as though she’d very much like to throw her textbooks at the back of his head, but instead turned to Albus and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Uncle Harry says you can choose whichever House you see fit, and I highly doubt he’d lie about something like that,” she said in a motherly voice, while shooting an icy cold death stare at the back of James’s head.

“You heard that?” Albus asked, flushing brightly.

"And besides," Rose continued sharply, "reinforcing negative stereotypes and labels on Slytherin does _not_ show a good sense of house unity, James. It is our job, as students, wishing to study the traditional ways of our ancestors long before us-"

"Speak for yourself!" Roxanne snorted derisively. "All I have _planned_ this year is endless of pranks for our lovely co-House. Perhaps I can poison all of their food with amortentia if I can break into Dad's store in Hogsmeade and steal his new batch of love potions-"

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," Rose sniffed delicately and turned away. "This kind of low tolerance for Houses aside from Gryffindor is exactly what caused the lifelong feud between Uncle Harry and Mr. Malfoy, you know."

"Feud?" Lucy and Molly asked in unison, noses wrinkling in confusion. Albus sighed. The rivalry between his father and Mr. Malfoy was well-spoken of in his house, but he didn't exactly feel like telling his cousins the horror stories his father and Draco Malfoy had been through together during their years at Hogwarts. He was more concerned with the fact that he'd probably be disowned- if not by his parents, at least by his cousins- should he be so unfortunate as to get himself landed in Slytherin, the exact same house Malfoy had been in during his Hogwarts years. They didn't seem to notice his discomfort, however, and as Rose regaled their extended family with tales from Uncle Harry's misadventures with the blonde-haired man, Albus stared out the window of the compartment, barely noticing the sharp jab of Rose's textbooks as they passed along several bumps.

He would _not_ get into Slytherin. No matter what Rose said. And with that thought burning into his mind, he drifted into an uneasy sleep as the skin over his ribs formed bruises he would most definitely feel from the sharp stabbing of his cousin's textbooks, and as his mind dozed off into darkness and alarming dreams of the Sorting Hat yelling Slytherin nonsensically into his ear.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Hagrid!"

The large, bearded man looked up as the Potter-Weasley throng ran up to him, the soft soles of their shoes slapping onto the grass as they clambered off of the train and surrounded their family friend with bright, grinning faces. Albus felt his stomach twinge in a strange mix of anticipation, excitement, and dread as the half-giant patted him on his head as he led them to the boats.

He had spent the remainder of the trip looking out the window and giving his relatives tense one-word replies if they tried to engage him in conversation. Rose put her arm around his shoulders at one point in an attempt to comfort him. Her frame was bony under her Hogwarts robes, but Albus leaned into her anyways and tried to calm himself. _I'll be fine,_ he thought without much conviction. The wait for the train to stop was pain-staking; Albus stuffed his mouth with chocolate and tried not to think about Hogwarts. He decided to ease himself into it, like a hot bath. He wouldn't get overexcited. When the Sorting Hat called his name, he would be calm, and collected. People would stare at his composed figure in awe. When he was finally, finally Sorted into Gryffindor, the cheers would make the Great Hall rumble.

He repeated this in his head like a mantra as he followed Hagrid into the boats with all the other First Years. He spotted some familiar faces- Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, the fair-haired twins of Luna Lovegood and her husband Rolf. Luna was a family friend, and the Potter-Weasley children had been accustomed to seeing her family drift in and out of the house over the years. He and Rose waved to them, and they gave them dreamy smiles in return. Molly, Lucy, Roxanne, Victoire, and James all drifted away to the carriages that the older years used after hugging Albus and Rose goodbye. Albus felt an odd sense of separation as he watched James's receding back, arm-in-arm with Roxanne and Victoire as Lucy and Molly trotted alongside their cousins. He hated to admit it, but he felt almost naked without his cousins. Aside from Lorcan, Lysander, and a few other children of Harry and Ginny's friends, the only person he actually knew was Rose.

And Hagrid, of course. The half-giant gave him and Rose a big grin as the boats began their trek across the large body of water.

"Albus!" He boomed in a cheery voice. "Rose! How are you two? Did yer old dad like the birthday present I sent him, Albus? How's Hermione and Ron?"

Albus allowed himself to relax a bit as he answered Hagrid's questions. He and Rose shared an amused glance at the almost puppy-like excitement the broad-shouldered man had for them. It had been a while since they last laid eyes on Harry's friend; the last time they had seen him was at the Burrow for the Christmas party Grandma Molly had thrown in December. He had brought all the kids presents that more or less contained small magical creatures that Albus was fairly sure wasn't legal to own as household pets, but it was a fairly enjoyable event nonetheless. He had missed the man very much, and judging by Rose's affectionate expression, he wasn't the only one.

"Dad loved the Ukranian Ironbelly, although he had to give it to Uncle Charlie because it got too big to live in Grimmauld Place." Albus smiled a little when his father's terrified expression popped into his mind. The baby dragon had come in an innocent enough package, but when Harry undid the wrappings the Ironbelly nearly took his finger off after have been cooped inside the box for at least three days. Who knew the Minister of Magic _and_ the Boy Who Lived could look so comical trying to get a baby dragon off his finger?

"And Mum and Dad are fine; they're making vacation plans to visit the American Wizarding School over the summer to collaborate with some researchers of Muggle technology. Mum wants to learn how to influence Muggle objects by using new spells, Dad's just going because he wants to get Danny DeVito's autograph." Rose piped from beside Albus, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. Hagrid gave a barking laugh and clapped her on the back so hard she had to grab onto Albus's sleeve to steady herself.

"That's Ron an' Hermione, all right!" Behind his beard, he gave the two first years big grins. "An' what about you two? Planning on getting into trouble just like your folks this year?"

Albus clutched his arms and shivered at the thought of spending first year combating Death Eaters. "No, thanks. Fighting dark wizards is for Dad and Dad alone."

"Me and Albus are already going to have to put a lot of hours into our studies, anyway," Rose said knowingly. "Mum said that there are a lot of interesting subjects we could apply for before Third Year if we work really hard."

"You are your mother's daughter, I see," Hagrid's black eyes twinkled as he looked down at Rose. Albus looked out across the Great Lake as Hagrid and Rose began a discussion on how probable it would be for Rose to sneak into a 3rd year Divination class without anyone seeing. The moon was shining down on the gentle ripples of the dark water, but there was a distinct vibration under Albus's feet that had been growing in power since he climbed into the rowboat. He frowned and tugged on Rose's arm.

"Rose, do you feel-"

Before he could finish his sentence, a monster emerged from the water.

Big as a two-story building, it took the form of a giant squid with tentacles as long as a football field. It was greyish pink in color, and its deep-set eyes were black as coal. Before he knew what he was doing, Albus whipped out his wand ("10 1/4 inches, Fir wood, Threstral hair, quite whippy!" Olivander had grinned toothily at Albus). He didn't know a single spell, but he had to do _something._

Rose saw him from the corner of her eyes and turned to him, hazel orbs wide in panic. "Cast _Avifor!"_

Her voice was tinged with both fright and authority. Albus nodded quickly. He didn't have time to second-guess her, and besides, Rose had been spending all of last summer studying from Hermione's old spellbook. And besides, Hagrid couldn't use his magic. He couldn't protect them even if he wanted to. Rose knew what she was doing.

Or, at least, that's what Albus thought. He was expecting some kind of magical arrow to come bursting from his wand and landing itself into the Squid's flesh. Instead, the squid began shuddering all over, creating waves in the water that treacherously rocked the boat. Albus clutched onto Rose, shutting his eyes as he mentally prepared himself for a tragic death at the hands (rather, tentacles) of a giant squid, when all of a sudden the creature disappeared.

A small grey bird took its place. It flapped its wings clumsily and flew in a tiny, panicked circle before it flew off into the night sky. Albus watched it disappear, jaw dropping so low he was afraid it would sink to the bottom of the lake. A few moments later, a large splash was heard from a few yards away. There was a faint movement in the distance before the squid's head popped back up again.

Albus tensed, but all it did was dive underwater and left them for good.

Hagrid and the rest of the students stared at Albus for a very long time. He was expecting some sort of praise for defeating the monster, some sort of standing ovation for saving them all from certain doom. Instead, a voice roared from the shoreline of the lake.

Minerva McGonagall stood there, face looking taut and severe.

"And just what," she asked, voice magically amplified, "do you think you're doing, Mr. Potter?"

_Uh-oh._

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Professor McGonagall," Albus greeted the headmistress weakly as she practically hauled him off the boat.

Rose trailed after them, face pale with nervousness as she nearly tripped over Albus's heels in her haste to follow him into the castle with the frowning headmistress. The rest of the first years watched them leave, murmuring quietly to themselves as the three figures' retreating backs disappeared inside the castle that loomed over the lake. Maybe Albus wasn't Harry Potter's carbon copy, but he did inherit the knack of grand entrances, was the general thought.

Albus cursed his luck for what seemed to be the billionth time that day. Although he'd heard stories of how intimidating the Headmistress could be during his father's time at Hogwarts, the stories shared after meals or over fireplaces could not begin to describe how terrifying her frown could be. Albus gave Rose a glance, trying to tell her with his eyes to save him, but she just gave him a hopeless shrug and grabbed the hand that wasn't being clutched at by Professor McGonagall.

They stopped near the entrance of the Grand Hall.

"Explain, Mr. Potter." She let go of his hand and crossed her arms.

"Well, you see, me and Rose were sitting on the boat, right? Only I felt this huge rumbling sound and then that ginormous squid came rising from the depths like _Jaws_ and I thought it was gonna kill us so I took out my wand but I didn't know any spells for warding off giant squids that want to eat your face so Rose told me to cast _Avifor_ and then it turned into this bird thing and it flew away and then I guess it turned back into its original self because it sent up this huge wave from the impact and _please,_ Professor McGonagall, please don't expel me." His lungs screamed in protest as he finished tripping over his sentences and took a huge gulp of air.

"He didn't mean anything by it, Professor," Rose added, looking at the older woman with big, round eyes. "He was only doing what he thought was right."

She shifted slightly, so that her body was shielding Albus's. He felt his face warm and touched her shoulder in a gesture of thanks. Professor McGonagall's eyes softened, but her frown deepened even further, wrinkles etching deeply onto the contours of her pale face. 

"Be that as that may, Mr. Potter, Ms. Weasley, I cannot commend your actions. You could've very easily hurt the Giant Squid- an endangered species, I might add- and caused irrevocable damage to its health." Albus and Rose looked down at the ground, faces flushing in shame. Professor McGonagall placed both hands on their shoulders and sighed.

"But I will not expel you. After all, you are your father's son. I should have expected that you wouldn't come to Hogwarts without a bang." Her sharp grey eyes pierced Albus's, searching his face for a moment before turning to Rose, who was anxiously biting her short, clean fingernails, the red paint she had so carefully put on that morning now chipping off. "As for you, Ms. Weasley... excellent use of _Avifors._ You have displayed quick thinking under a moment of panic, in which you thought your classmates were in danger. You and Mr. Potter's only concern was for your fellow peers, which is an admirable quality, even if the creature did not mean any harm in the first place. You only did what you thought was right. As stern as I may sound, I cannot be angry at that. For this I award whichever House you two shall be in ten points during the Sorting."

Rose's eyes lit up brilliantly, and her entire face went pink with pleasure. She looked like she wanted to throw her arms around the Headmistress but decided against it and instead clasped her hands together, beaming at Professor McGonagall. Albus couldn't help but grin himself and gave the Headmistress a thankful look as Rose jumped with glee. This definitely didn't sound like the Professor McGonagall in his father's stories. This McGonagall was merciful, which he silently thanked Merlin for.

"Thank you, Professor!" She began, but Professor McGonagall held up her hand.

"However, you two did hurt the Giant Squid. Despite whatever intentions you had, this is still a fact. I must insist on week's detention as well." Now _that_ was the Professor Albus recognized.

Rose's face fell, but she managed to nod gracefully and not too subtly kicked Albus to do the same. "Of course, Headmistress. We understand our actions have consequences, and we are very sorry for harming an innocent creature."

"Yeah. For what it's worth, we really didn't mean it, Professor. Sorry." Albus gripped his wand tightly as Professor McGonagall appraised him. He was sure another lecture was coming but all she said was, "Give your father my greetings, Mr. Potter. Your mother and father as well, Ms. Weasley." as she went back to the entrance of the castle and opened the doors as a line of excitable first years burst in, chattering loudly and eagerly as Professor McGonagall greeted them and gave them what Albus assumed was the standard greeting for new students, which was a formal introduction and a quick hand beckoning them to follow her inside a small room where they would wait until their name was called and they would be Sorted into their Houses by the ancient Sorting Hat.

Albus gripped his wand nervously as he waited. Names were called loudly and clearly, until one by one the room slowly emptied. Rose gently took the wand from his white-knuckled grasp and tucked it in the inside of his robes, giving him a patient, reassuring smile. He tried to smile back- managed a weak grimace instead-, and took a deep breath.

He would be okay. He would be the greatest Gryffindor in the world... or maybe even Ravenclaw, if Rose was going there. Although he might've not loved reading to the extent Rose did, he certainly enjoyed curling up on his father's armchair, reading both Muggle and magical scrolls he borrowed from Aunt Hermione. And he definitely preferred making up riddles with Rose than trying to beat James in Quidditch in the backyard.

"Potter, Albus!"

Albus nearly jumped out of his skin. Rose pulled him into a quick hug, whispered, " _Good luck!"_ , and pushed him a little out of the room and into the adjoining Great Hall. It hushed as Albus took a few timid steps to the Sorting Hat. Teachers, students... they were all looking at him with some level of curiosity in his eyes. Or was he just being an egotistical, paranoid coward?

He found James's face in the crowd of Gryffindors sitting at a nearby table. His brother's mouth curled into a huge grin from around the sausage he was in the middle of gobbling and two thumbs-up. Beside him sat their cousins. They all waved and nodded eagerly for him to approach the Sorting Hat. Gulping, he took the last few steps forward and sat on the stool as the Sorting Hat was placed over his head.

 _Oh, my..._ a voice in his head suddenly whispered. Albus froze. _Your father sat in the same place you are now. You are much like him, young wizard, in your fears and wishes. But you want to prove yourself... you want to be your own person, not your father's legacy._

"Stop it." Albus muttered through gritted teeth. Wasn't the Sorting Hat supposed to tell him about himself, not his father?

 _Hmm,_ the Sorting Hat mused. _You have courage, but not in the ways you expect. A quiet, sharp mind, ambitious wants and dreams, a yearning for acceptance, recognition, admiration... all this can be honed by one House, and one House only._

 _No,_ Albus thought ferociously. _No, don't, don't put me there._

_You do not know your own desires yet, little wizard. I am merely sending you on your way on the path of greatness._

The "SLYTHERIN!" it yelled would still be in Albus's ears for days afterwards.

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Albus felt like he was going to throw up.

 His ears were still ringing as he got up from the stool and took a seat at the Slytherin table. Nobody clapped for a few moments. The tension in the Great Hall was so thick it was nearly suffocating. Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the poster boy for Gryffindors everywhere, fathered a son who was in Slytherin. It was unreal. The look on James's face made Albus want to crawl inside a hole and die. He couldn't imagine what his own face looked like as he clasped his hands on his lap. His head spun unpleasantly and his stomach turned, making him push away his plate in disgust.

 After a few seconds, the Slytherin table burst into cheers. He was clapped on the back by multiple hands, the owners of said hands grinning so widely their cheeks seemed to be cramping while Albus tried to decipher what he was feeling. The shock was fading and slowly turning into anger; hot, black anger so intense it seemed to fill him from the inside out. His father promised him he wouldn't have to go to Slytherin. He said he could choose. He said that Albus didn't have anything to worry about.

  _Just my luck_ , the eleven-year-old thought bitterly, _that he promises it'll be okay and then it completely blows up in my face_.

 And because he was apparently a masochist and loved pain, he peeked over at the Gryffindor table to see the damage. His cousins didn't look angry so much as stunned. When they caught him staring, they gave him pitying, sympathetic glances before turning to their plates a bit more quickly than necessary. Albus turned to his own plate, glaring at his shaking hands.

 The worst had happened. It was over. He didn't need to be afraid anymore. So why did he feel like the worst was yet to come?

He watched in dull silence as the Sorting continued, feeling a million miles away by the end of it. When it was Rose's turn, the Sorting Hat sat on her long red hair for nearly a minute and a half, almost as long as Albus's. The "Ravenclaw!" it finally yelled out wasn't much of a surprise, but Rose seemed to be deep in thought as she took a seat at the cheering table. After all, her parents were proud Gryffindors even if they didn't have as much pressure for her to be in their House. Albus felt a little better as he picked at his food. At least he wasn't the only one not sorted into Gryffindor.

"...Are you okay?"

Albus blinked and looked up. A tall blonde boy- a good foot and a half taller than Albus, even sitting down- was staring at him concernedly as he took a seat next to the first year. _He must've just been Sorted,_  Albus thought vaguely. The black-haired boy stared at him dazedly before realizing he was waiting for a response. Shrugging, Albus looked back down at his hands, clasped tight in his lap.

"I'm fine, just leave me be." He said, a little harsher than he meant to. The boy looked unfazed as he stared Albus down with cool, piercing gray eyes. Albus frowned. The boy was familiar. He could've sworn he saw him before, maybe saw a picture of him somewhere or other. He opened his mouth to ask the boy's name before it hit him.

_Scorpius Malfoy...?_

Scorpius scowled at Albus, a terrifying sight as he loomed over the boy with a stony expression. Albus puffed his chest and tried to look intimidating, but somehow got the impression Scorpius thought him smaller than before. "You're paler than death. You certainly don't look fine."

"What do you care?" Albus snapped, all of his emotions- fury, despair, hopelessness- rose up in his chest, up his throat and leaving a foul burning taste in his mouth as he swiveled in his seat to glare at the boy. "You don't even know me. It's none of your concern whether I'm in poor or fair health. Just leave me alone, will you, _Malfoy_?"

The other boy's face looked unreadable as he looked at Albus with a steady, calculating gaze. Finally, he delicately raised a forkful of garden salad to his mouth and picked up his plate from the table.

"I just found it curious that the Boy who Lived's son wouldn't be nervous after finding out he has to spend seven years with the children of Death Eaters and purebloods who have spent all their lives trying to avenge their parents due to your father's foolish actions that left them dead or worse," Scorpius smiled coldly as he stood up. Albus's gaze bore into the back of his gelled platinum head as he walked away and sat down at the end of the table, several seats away from Albus. "Nice to meet you, Potter. I'm sure we'll be fast friends."

Albus wanted to call after him, to say anything at his father's defense, but an exhausted sort of feeling took hold of him instead. He was so tired after tonight... he just wanted to go to the Slytherin dorms- something he never thought he'd find himself saying before today- and promptly collapse onto a bed. Tomorrow all of this would simply be a bad dream.

A loud chuckle on Albus's left broke him out of his reverie. "Scorpius is a bit of a handful sometimes. Sorry you had to experience it firsthand."

A pretty black first-year sat beside him, kinky brown hair tied in intricate braids rolling down her broad shoulders as she smiled sympathetically at the boy. Albus tried to remember her name, without much success, and instead opted to twiddle with his thumbs and try to listen as she spoke instead of cover his hands over his ears like a little boy and pretend he was somewhere- anywhere- other than here.

"I grew up on the same street as him when we were kids. Blaise Zabini's my dad... he and Mr. Malfoy were really close during their Hogwarts years, and wanted us to grow up together just like they did. Scorpius is like a brother to me, but sometimes he really doesn't know when to shut up and leave things alone."

Albus's cheeks reddened as she gave him another big smile, dimples creasing in her cheeks as she patted his shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. "I hope this isn't too hard on you. It must be tough having to carry on a legacy of Gryffindors only to become a Slytherin. I can't imagine what would happen if the roles were reversed for me..."

Her expression turned serious, and Albus fidgeted on the bench, grasping his hands even tighter than before. "This isn't a bad House to be in, Potter. Bad people are everywhere, not just Slytherin. After all, Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor, wasn't he? And look what he did to your grandparents. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but... just give Slytherin a chance. Believe me, from what I've heard of it, it isn't as bad as you think it is."

 _Yeah, right._ As far as Albus was concerned this was all just a big mistake. He'd go up to Headmistress McGonagall tomorrow as soon as he woke up and ask for a House change. It had never happened before, but this really was a mistake. Surely she'd have to put him in his correct House- _Gryffindor-_ when he explained it was all just a big misunderstanding, right?

As if she could read his thoughts, the girl sighed and shook her head sadly. "Please, Albus. Don't make a big deal out of this more than it has to be. Now... I've got to find Scorpius before he can get himself into trouble."

She stood up from the table. Albus caught her sleeve just in time. "Wait! I don't even know your name."

"Astoria. Astoria Zabini." the girl gave him one last smile before picking up her plate and goblet and walking over to where Scorpius was in a hushed conversation with several other Slytherins, all looking entranced by whatever he was saying as they leaned closer to him in what seemed to be quiet revere for him.

Albus scowled. It wasn't fair. Not only was Scorpius able to blatantly threaten him and get away with it, but he was also exceedingly popular with his fellow Housemates as well? Albus would not sleep well tonight knowing that Scorpius could easily influence the minds of the people he'd be sharing a dorm with- _only for tonight,_ he told himself furiously- and turn them against him. Who knew? Maybe they'd murder him in his sleep using some poisonous snakes or deadly spells. He didn't know what Scorpius was capable of. Not yet, at least.

"Albus, are you okay?"

If one more person asked him that today he'd have a nervous breakdown. He looked up and his eyes widened in surprise. It was Rose, having apparently came from the Ravenclaw table to talk to Albus. He felt a small rush of gratefulness and affection at the gesture, and he poured Rose a drink of pumpkin juice in thanks.

"I'm stuck in the House everyone in our entire family loathes, but aside from that I'm great," he said, trying to keep the bitterness from entering his voice. Rose sighed.

"For what it's worth, I'm sure Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry won't care about this," she comforted, pressing a gentle hand against the small of his back. Albus let out a groan of frustration and put his head on the table, feeling miserable for himself as he covered his face with his arms.

" _I_ care," he muttered quietly. Rose's hand began to drift in small circles as she hummed thoughtfully at his response.

"What are you planning to do?" She asked him, matter-of-factly. He was both appreciative and shocked that she thought he had a plan. He did, but it was extremely half-baked and probably wouldn't work unless he was extremely lucky.

"Get the Sorting Hat to Sort me again," he shrugged helplessly. "Talk to Professor McGonagall and try to let her change my House. I don't know yet, Rose. I wish I did."

"You'll figure it out," she promised. Albus wished he had the same confidence she did. More than that, he wished he could trade places with her, if only for tonight. To escape the crushing anger that had come full-force at how big the error of the Sorting Hat had made on his behalf. To not hate the House or the people- except for maybe Astoria, who actually seemed fairly nice from what he'd gathered- he was going to have to be stuck with for seven years, worst case scenario.

"Yeah," Albus managed instead, and lifted his goblet to his mouth, deep in thought.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Rose eventually had to go back to her own seat at the Ravenclaw table, as Professor McGonagall's speech was about to begin and they would immediately have to set out for their dorms. She promised Albus she would find him tomorrow, and gave him a nervous glance before picking up her plate and sitting down next to a few dark-haired girls who had their heads ducked into thick, old books with yellowing parchment Albus could smell from his seat at the Slytherin table.

Professor McGonagall rose from her seat at the Head Table after a few more minutes of raucous laughter and yelling from the students, jiggling with anticipation at an entire new year of Hogwarts. New adventures to have, new friends to make... their mood was so infectious Albus could feel himself smiling despite himself. He had managed to wolf down a few goblets of pumpkin juice and helpings of a thick, creamy pudding that melted inside his mouth as he waited for Professor McGonagall to begin her speech (he had been told by at she had waited until the students had finished their meal to begin talking, which was really rather wise considering the fact they had spent a few hours in a train with no food aside from the trolley or the smushed sandwiches they had packed for themselves at home).

She smiled a little at the instantaneous quiet that settled over the Great Hall as soon as she stepped forward, and began to speak.

"To old and new students, welcome and welcome back! I'm sure all of you have spent the summer studying, catching up on schoolwork or simply reading for the fulfillment of new magical education."

Loud laughter rippled across the Hall at that. Professor McGonagall sighed, her smile turning wry as she continued.

"Another year of Hogwarts awaits you. There are many spells to cast and charms to learn, curses to defend yourselves against and potions to create during this time. Studying should be a priority, but enjoying yourselves should be the top priority you have." Her voice sounded rather reluctant, and judging from the grins on the professor's faces behind her, Albus guessed they made her add that on before she could protest.

She went on to talk about all the things they could expect from the school year, and reminded the fifth and seventh years of their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, respectively. She finished by seamlessly turning into a cat- a feat which all the first years _ooh-_ ed and _ahh-_ ed at- and smirking as she padded back to her seat, which caused all the Prefects to stand up and lead the students back to their dorms.

Albus found himself chewing on his nails- a nervous habit he had gotten from Rose and couldn't seem to shake off- as he found himself walking down the moving staircases for what seemed to go on for hours, until finally they had reached the dungeons of the castle. The air began to feel frosty, and he shivered as goosebumps prickled on his skin. The Prefects- a boy and a girl with immaculate robes and stoic expressions- stepped forward and spoke the password in unison.

 _"Syreni,"_ they said, voices clear and wobbling off the stone walls as the stone wall they were speaking to slowly opened.

"What does that mean?" Albus muttered to the girl beside him. She looked at him in vague surprise and disapproval, as if not knowing obscure Latin words was a first-rate crime.

"Mermaid," she whispered back as they were jostled in the crowd of Slytherins rushing into the common room. Albus frowned- wasn't Slytherin supposed to have passwords like Pure-Blood or Death-Eater?- but the girl was already gone, and he didn't trust himself to speak as he took in his surroundings. The stone walls were covered in soft tapestries depicting Medieval Slytherins casting spells or holding snakes in their hands. A subtle green tinge gave the room an unnatural, mysterious air, which was enforced by the skulls littering the floors in an almost elegant fashion. Black and green leather sofas were placed strategically around the room so that a student couldn't walk more than five feet without accidentally bumping into an armchair or couch, but the wide space it contained prevented it from feeling cramped. Black-clothed scones on the walls dimly lit up the room, shedding light on large bookcases and dark cupboards seemingly built onto the walls.

Albus wanted to poke around a bit more, but the male Prefect was already leading the Slytherin boys up the staircase and into their dorms. The girls went in the opposite direction, and Albus saw some Slytherin boys nudging each other and grinning. He resisted gagging. Aside from Astoria, nearly all the girls seemed like they wanted to bite his head off if he approached. And the very idea of peeking on them inside their dorm and getting caught was enough for him to stumble quickly up the stairs and into the safety of his dorm.

He supposed the Slytherin boys were worse, though. They kept on whispering and blatantly staring at him whenever he was in the near vicinity of the area, mostly caused by Scorpius and a few of his friends. Albus tried to fight down his irritation. They'd barely talked for five minutes and already Scorpius thought of Albus as his enemy? The dark-haired boy had thought his father and Mr. Malfoy had already made their peace in seventh year, but he guessed if Mr. Malfoy's son had such a vendetta against him that couldn't be the case.

Their suitcases and trunks were already placed against each bed- twin beds with green-and-black patterned duvets-, and Albus felt himself cheer up a little when he saw Crookshanks meowing on his bed. Ironically, Rose had detested her mother's pet, insisting that he was constantly looking for a way to torment her- although Albus was pretty sure she had been sore at Crookshanks ever since he accidentally tore up her favorite blouse one summer when they were nine-, so Aunt Hermione had insisted on giving him to Albus for the school year.

"Crookshanks helped us uncover Sirius's identity during our 3rd year, you know," Aunt Hermione had said while cradling the old ginger cat to her chest. Uncle Ron had rolled his eyes behind her back and said, "I'm pretty sure you're mistaking Crookshanks for Remus, love," but had shushed as her piercing gaze swiveled onto him from the couch. She had turned back to Albus and lowered the cat onto his lap. "Take him, Albus. For luck."

Albus had agreed. He and Crookshanks had always been on good terms. The eleven-year-old was the only one of his siblings, for example, to have not gotten bit by the cat at one point. Albus had proudly considered that a strong mark of their friendship, and seeing him now reminded him that, no matter if James or his cousins wouldn't accept him, at least Crookshanks would.

Rose's voice sighed inside his head. _You're being ridiculous, Albus. Even Roxanne said she wouldn't hate you if you were a Slytherin, and you know how she feels about them ever since Tammy Oddlob casted the Bat-Bogey hex on her in first year._

Albus smiled a little as he took a seat down beside Crookshanks and stroke his thick red fur. Imaginary or not, Rose was right. He _was_ being ridiculous. Just because he was in a different House than theirs wouldn't mean they'd treat him any differently. After all, he was still family. The thought comforted him as he put on his pajamas and pulled the covers over himself, curling up on his side as he listened to the loud chatter of the Slytherin first-years slowly dwindle to a halt as, one by one, they all fell asleep.

As he listened to their soft snores, he drifted off into a sleepless dream. Despite everything, he was still alive. And he could always go to Professor McGonagall and tell her the Sorting Hat made a mistake tomorrow. Crookshanks burrowed his smushed face under Albus's arm, and he moved it a little to give the cat some room to sleep beside him. And although he didn't know it yet, waking up to the first-years' screams tomorrow as they found Crookshank's piss inside their shoes would mark the beginning of his journeys at Hogwarts. 

For now, though, he laid beside the cat and felt himself relax as the black of sleep washed over him.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

"Potter!"

 "Mm."

 "Potter, wake up or so help me-"

 "Five more minutes, Mum," Albus mumbled, turning on his side and scrunching his nose up at the sound of the noise penetrating his ears so early in the morning. The warmth of the blankets he was swaddled in suddenly disappeared, and he propped himself up on his elbows, frowning sleepily at the unfamiliar blonde boy scowling down at him from the foot of the bed.

 "I'm not your mum, nor do I have any desire to be," Scorpius Malfoy growled. "Get up, Potter. If you're late to Charms, you'll start Slytherin off with five less points than we already have."

 Albus sat up so fast it made his head spin. An awful smell wafted up to his nostrils, the smell of cat urine penetrating the dormitory like someone had bathed in it. He rubbed his eyes groggily and stood up from the bed, trying to remember where he put his robes last night. He and Scorpius seemed to be the only two people in the chambers. The rest had probably already gone down to breakfast, and Albus's stomach growled loudly. He hadn't had anything to eat since the few bowls of pudding he managed to wolf down last night, and his stomach seemed to be gnawing on itself as he opened the chest at the foot of his bed.

 "Looking for this?" Scorpius gingerly held his robes in between his index finger and thumb. Albus yanked it from his hands and frowned at the Slytherin. He looked perfectly combed and gelled. He probably spent hours putting his hair this way and that before deciding on a suitably prat-like 'do that made him look like he was a member of the Weird Sisters, or maybe of a punk rock '90s boy band.

 "Why are you here, Malfoy?" Albus sighed as he disrobed and pulled on his clothing, which felt hard and coarse compared to his soft, silky grey pajamas. Scorpius gave Albus a death glare that would've been terrifying if he wasn't half-asleep.

 "Your cat," Scorpius hissed in response. He picked up a pair of shoes from the foot of someone's bed and put it up to Albus's nose. He swatted it away, disgusted, as the smell of Crookshank's urine filled his senses. "Do you know how many times I had to charm my shoes until it finally got rid of that foul stench? No, Potter, I wasn't going to let you go that easy."

 Albus felt himself swell with both pride and annoyance at the cat's actions. The look on Scorpius's face was too comical to make Albus stay long at the ginger feline for long, and he gave the blonde a shit-eating grin as he slipped on his own shoes, clean and polished with a shiny wax from Aunt Fleur's visit when she and Uncle Bill had come to see them before school started. She had taken one look at the shoes- already clean and shiny- and practically demanded that they be given to her for shining. Victoire, Dominique, and Louis had all shared amused glances at James's and Albus's protests. Their mother simply demanded perfection, and apparently the state of Albus's shoes was no exception.

 "Sorry, Malfoy. But sometimes you just have to let nature take its course." Albus shrugged and began to head to the door, but Scorpius grabbed his arm roughly and turned him around, giving him a nasty scowl.

 "I disagree, Potter. Take your stupid cat somewhere where it can't piss in our shoes or I'll tell Professor Slughorn you're already causing trouble." He shot him one last warning look before letting his arm go and brushing past him out of the dorms. Albus glared at the back of his blonde head as he followed him down the steps and out of the Common Room. There was no way he was going to be sharing a room with that prat for the entire school year.

 

* * *

 

 "I'm serious, Rose. He's evil." Albus complained as he lifted a steaming forkful of scrambled egg to his mouth. Rose gave him an exasperated look as she sipped delicately at her cup of pumpkin juice. They were already beginning to get some weird looks- Rose had left the Ravenclaw table to sit with Albus twice already-, but the duo paid them no mind as Albus complained about who he called "the devil incarnate, or at least his offspring" and Rose indulged him reluctantly.

"He's not evil, Albus. But you do have to admit there is some bad blood between Malfoy's father and Uncle Harry." Rose said between a mouthful of toast and butter.

“Dad saved Malfoy’s life in 7th year!” Albus protested, as he could negotiate a long-lived rivalry along logical lines.

“Respect doesn’t equal friendship, Albus,” Rose said primly as she stood up from the table. “Mr. Malfoy might respect Uncle Harry, but that doesn’t mean they like one another. Now, come along. We shouldn’t be late for charms. Mum excelled at it when she was in Hogwarts; she’s lent me some notes, I’ll share them with you once we get there…”

As it turned out, they barely made it to class on time (Rose blamed the moving staircases and its unpredictable routes, while Albus partially blamed himself- he _was_ dragging his feet, after all). Professor Flitwick gave them a dirty look as they sneaked inside the classroom, and opened his mouth as if to scold them, but instead opted to shake his head exasperatedly and continue his lecture on the _Aqua Erecto_ charm.

As Rose hurriedly flipped through her mother’s notes, Albus fiddled nervously with his wand under the table. Their task for the day was to cast the charm into empty glass cups without under or overfilling them. While it seemed easy enough, Albus could barely get his wand to cooperate. It struggled in his hands, as though it were a caged animal, and sprayed a forceful jet- not at the cup, but at Professor Flitwick himself. Albus watched in horror as the tiny man stared down at his drenched clothing.

“Potter,” he sighed, shutting his eyes. “See me after class.”

Albus gulped. Behind him, Malfoy and his lackeys started snickering like they’d just went to a particularly hilarious comedy show. Albus found himself itching to try out the charm on the blonde boy- a sort of “experiment” to see whether being angry had any effect on the strength of the spell-, but instead slumped back in his chair and groaned softly to himself.

Truly, the day was starting out great. First Malfoy and now the risk of getting _another_ week’s worth of detention from Professor Flitwick? Ugh. The physicians at St. Mungo’s would _not_ like how high his blood pressure was this year.

 

* * *

 

 “So, do you have detention?” Rose asked as Albus walked out of the classroom.

Professor Flitwick had been less-than-pleased at his explanation. Even to Albus’s ears, his excuse sounded weak. Sure, maybe it was the wand that had come from one of the most prestigious wand shops in the country. _Or,_ Professor Flitwick said, maybe, it was just him not following directions.

The older wizard’s expression softened slightly when he saw the first year’s expression. He tried to reach up to pat Albus’s shoulder but ended up stroking his arm rather awkwardly instead. His face flushed so red that Albus wasn’t sure whether or not to grab Madame Pomfrey from the Hospital Wing, but the professor simply let him off with a warning not to let his wand fiasco happen again.

“No,” Albus sighed. “He let me off with a warning, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this embarrassed since James dressed me up in Lily’s pink tutu and painted my nails in the middle of the night last year.”

“That _was_ pretty embarrassing,” Rose agreed amicably. “Albus, it really wasn’t your fault. Your wand is made of Threstral Hair, so I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that you can’t see them that’s making your wand so dysfunctional.”

“So now I have to watch someone die in order to have my wand _not_ spray my professors in the face?” Albus asked, slightly hysterical. “That’s great. Truly, if the day needed a topper, this is it.”

“Albus, get a hold of yourself.” Rose commanded, her voice suddenly steely, and Albus stopped in the middle of the hallway to stare at her. His cousin pulled him beside her to let the ebb of students flooding the hallway continue on. Straightening his tie and trying to pat down his hair, Rose said, “It really isn’t the end of the world. You’ll figure out how to get your wand to cooperate eventually. Did Dad ever tell you about his second year?”

Wordlessly, Albus shook his head.

“His wand broke. Well, it wasn’t really _his_ wand, it was Uncle Charlie’s, but the point is- it was broken by the Whomping Willow, and he was stuck with it for the entire year. But you know what? He did some pretty amazing things with that wand. Did you know that Gilderoy Lockhart Obliviated himself with that wand?” Rose smiled with obvious pride at her dad’s involuntary role in Lockhart’s Obliviation. Personally, Albus felt himself both amused and a little disturbed at the satisfaction she took from talking about her father’s memory-wiping wand.

“But it’s not only that, Rose!” Albus protested under his breath. “I’m in _Slytherin,_ for Merlin’s sake. I’m stuck rooming with a particularly evil blonde first-year that wants to murder me in my sleep because Crookshanks peed in his slippers!”

Rose’s face broke into a grin. “He what?”

And suddenly, the tension broke. Albus felt himself relaxing as he explained how the fluffy cat managed to soil his roommates’ shoes in just one night. Rose looked downright admiring at the feline’s antics as they made their way up to Professor Binn’s History of Magic class, which was impressive considering the amount of dislike the redhead contained for the cat.

By the time Professor Binns was beginning his lesson on the first Giant War of 1236, Albus had finally calmed down from his rant, and shame started to replace the fear and hysteria that had been coiled into a knot at the pit of his belly. Really, it wasn’t Rose’s fault that he was stuck in Slytherin. She was only trying to help, and taking out his frustration on her made him feel almost as icky as yesterday felt. He stole a glance at her to find her deeply engrossed in the ghost’s lecture and smiled. Everyone else was either falling asleep or on the verge of it, but not Rose.

Deciding to follow in her footsteps, he readied his quill and parchment (and really, why couldn’t Hogwarts move past the 1700s to let their students use pens?) and started to scrawl down notes, feeling proud of himself that, by the end of class, he peeked at Rose’s notes only two times (fine, 2.5 times).

By the time evening rolled around, he had managed to completely assure himself that everything would be fine. He would talk to Professor McGonagall after dinner in the Great Hall, get Sorted into his _actual_ House, and maybe even exchange his wand at Ollivander’s by Christmas break, if he had enough time.

No, Rose was right. Everything would be _just fine._ And tonight, it would be proven once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I'm sorry the pacing is so slow! Both in this *and* in real life. I've been meaning to start writing a few ideas about where I want to take the story for first year, but between summer camp and trying to update my other story I haven't had as much time as I would've liked writing more about Albus and Rose's adventures.   
> I'm rereading Carry On by Rainbow Rowell, a fantastic book revolving around a wizard school and a Chosen One. It's kind of like a gay Harry Potter (if Draco and Harry fall madly in love with one another), if you'll forgive the oversimplification. It's also about platonic love and magic and defying expectations and social prejudices, as well as containing a lovely character named Penny that I'm trying to base Rose off of- while still keeping her personality vaguely Hermione-like.   
> But I'm going to flesh out both Rose's and Albus's characters by the time next chapter rolls around, I promise. Also- I've been wondering if I should switch POVs for second year (as in, either Rose's or Scorpius's), or keep it strictly in Albus's perspective, so if anyone wants to lend some advice that'd be deeply appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

"Twiddledums! Lemon drops! Womping Willow! Alohomora!"

So far, none of the old passwords had been working.

Back in his first year, James had "accidentally" discovered all the passwords of the Headmaster's Office while serving a detention with McGonagall for a particularly memorable curse put on Davy Parkinson in the Great Hall, and had thought it important to share the information with his cousins and siblings, even if Albus was only going to have been going to Hogwarts two years after. He would've never thought that the passwords would be of any significance to his first year at all, but now, desperately trying to figure out the password to Professor McGonagall's office, Albus shifted endlessly through his thoughts, trying to pinpoint the location of the letter James had sent back home two years ago.

And although Albus had been standing out here for a lengthy hour and twenty minutes, he was still making no progress on the door. He tried to console himself- after all, it wasn't his fault that the office didn't technically have a door. All it had was some stupid, cracked old gargoyle that eyed the 11-year-old from his comfortable stone perch with a disdainful look etched onto its stiff, feathery face. It had red gem eyes that prickled Albus's skin when he made eye contact, looking much like what a demon's would look like- a demon that was hellbent on protecting the door behind it from Albus's prying eyes.

At first, the first year had tried to explain why it needed to move so he could talk with Professor McGonagall immediately. And okay, maybe he did stretch the truth a little bit, saying it was a matter of life and death and that lives would be lost unless the gargoyle opened the door ASAP, but a fat lot of good it did anyway- for over an hour, the gargoyle sat unmoving, staring down stony-faced at the boy as he silently cursed his brother's failure to steal the new passwords instead of making his sibling rely on the old ones to work. He didn't normally condone James's illicit school activities, but it would've been much more convenient if he had indulged in his typical sneaky way of making trouble before the school year started as usual.

Then Albus remembered why James stealing the passwords this year wouldn't have helped anyway, because as far as James was concerned he didn't have a little brother anymore. The black-haired boy nearly kicked the gargoyle in frustration, partially out of anger at being locked out of the office, partially because with every second that passed it was a reminder why Albus needed to get in there in the first place- because of the stupid House he was accidentally Sorted in, because now everyone but Rose was shunning him, because the Sorting Hat was a rotten piece of cloth that was getting older by the minute-

"Mr. Potter? Why are you kicking my gargoyle at 10:45 P.M. at night?" A voice suddenly asked, and the boy jumped.

Minerva McGonagall stood in front of him, her wand dully illuminating her sharp grey eyes, which were currently focused on him in such a way he had no choice but to knock down the gargoyle's stare as one of the most frightening he'd seen in his life and put his Professor's in the lead. They really were unnerving, never once leaving his face as she spoke the password and the gargoyle lowered one of his giant wings to allow them to pass.

"Well, I just- I wanted to- I mean, uh..." Albus's mind suddenly went blank as she stared at him expectantly. Sighing, she motioned for him to follow her up the staircase the gargoyle's outstretched wing was hiding, and into her office. Practically tripping on her heels in his haste, Albus gave the room a glance- it was huge, circular, and filled with moving portraits on the walls, as well as crammed with elegant and expensive wooden furniture that looked like it was worth more than anything Albus would ever see in his lifetime. He hesitantly lowered himself into one of the two cushioned seats behind Professor McGonagall's desk and cleared his throat to speak.

"Professor," he said, voice slightly cracking at the end, "I wanted to speak to you about switching Houses."

Professor McGonagall did not look up from where she was tidying up the scrolls and books littering her desk. "And why is that, Mr. Potter?"

Feeling slightly emboldened, Albus continued.

"I'm unsatisfied with the House I was Sorted in. I feel like a mistake has been made by the Sorting hat-" at this the professor let out a very uncharacteristic scoff- "because it is old and unfit to Sort students into Houses anymore. At least, not _this_ student. I was supposed to be in Gryffindor. I _had_ to be in Gryffindor. And instead, it put me in Slytherin."

The Professor stacked the scrolls in a neat pile on the corner of her desk and wiped the dust off of _Guide to Advanced Occlumency,_ sending a cloud of dust across the room and prompting half of the portraits on the wall to start coughing and sneezing theatrically. Sending each of them a stern look, Professor McGonagall waited for their "allergies" to subside before turning back to Albus with a very serious expression.

"Albus, the Sorting Hat is very old and ancient, I will give you that. It has been around since our Founders, had been created by them millennia ago. But this does not mean the Sorting Hat is not wise, even after all its years of existence. For example, I am quite old- most certainly older than half of the students attending Hogwarts combined-, and yet I still have my wits about me. Why would such a powerful magical artifact such as the Sorting Hat be an exception?"

Albus's expression flittered from impressed to amused to thoughtful in a matter of seconds, an array of varied emotions easily readable upon his pale, open face. He sat in silence for a few minutes, contemplating this, and was about to break the silence before McGonagall beat him to it once more. Straightening her glasses so that they sat perched perfectly center on her long, thin nose, she stared at him from behind the glass lens and gently reached a hand across the desk to touch his.

"Mr. Potter, why do you _have_ to be in Gryffindor?"

The first-year's response was instantaneous. "My father was in there, and so was my mother, and so were my grandparents, and so are all my cousins and my brother and probably my sister will be, too, when she comes here in two years. Gryffindor is for Potters. And it's probably some kind of weird, twisted karma that I was put in Slytherin. Maybe I was Voldemort in my past life."

"Albus Severus Potter, you will not speak that name while in my office!" Professor McGonagall snapped, withdrawing her hand, and Albus flinched. Eyes softening, the older woman sighed and leaned back in her chair, watching the boy fidget and twiddle his fingers in front of her. He was the exact copy of his father, and yet he somehow managed to be the complete opposite at the exact same time.

"Mr. Potter," she began, immediately quieting her still-sharp tone of voice. "Albus, what do you know of your father's godfather?"

"Sirius?" Surprise flitted across Albus's face. "I know that he saved Dad's life in his fifth year and got himself killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. I know that James's middle name was named after him and that he's supposedly the carbon copy of both him and Grandfather. But that's it, I think."

"Well, Sirius came from a family of purebloods- though Death Eaters would be the more proper term, come to think of it." Professor McGonagall stated dryly. "For generations they prided themselves on being all Slytherin- until Sirius came to Hogwarts and was instantly Sorted into Gryffindor. He was elated- it was a chance to get back at his family, that's most certainly true, but more importantly, in Gryffindor he finally found a place to belong. He connected with your grandfather, and two other boys I'm sure you've heard of. Your House lets you connect with other people, whether you want it to or not. You're going to make friends, Albus. And besides, the Sorting Hat never makes a mistake. It was made by Godric Gryffindor himself, one of the most powerful wizards in the world. It would not put you in a House you don't belong in."

Her tone made it final their discussion was over. "Now I want you to go right back to your dormitory and go to bed. It's far past your bedtime to be making social calls with your Headmaster."

Albus dejectedly rose from the chair and slunk out of the room.

"Oh- and Albus?" Professor McGonagall called as he nearly disappeared from sight. His head popped back out from the wall, looking desperately hopeful.

"Yes, professor?"

"You've got a bit of cream biscuit on your cheek."

* * *

Crookshanks was waiting for Albus as he exhaustedly crawled into his bed. He purred as Albus dropped his head upon his pillow like a heavy rock and kicked off his shoes as quietly as possible, kicking them under the covers in a half-hearted search for some warmth against the dungeon's natural cold air. The soft blankets tangled around his torso and thighs instead and he groaned, feeling more miserable than he ever felt in his life.

Crookshanks settled down beside him, in the crook of his arm, and rubbed his soft, smashed face against the boy's forearm. Albus allowed himself the small comfort of running his hand through the old cat's hair and breathed him in, suddenly feeling both very alone and very nostalgic for home. He knew it'd never be the same when he came back in several months, not when he was apparently permanently in Slytherin, no matter what his father reassured him. Dad just didn't understand. He wasn't the son of some great, famous Gryffindor wizard who defeat the Dark Lord on several occasions and finally slayed him at an age only a few years older than Albus. He would never understand what it would be like being suddenly alienated from his family (and Albus knew this was an unfair thought, seeing as though the Dursleys had alienated him for all the years he'd been living at Privet Drive, but it still didn't stop him from thinking it), would never have so many expectations to meet because of who he was related to, because of who he shared a bit of blood with.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Albus should've never listened to his father. 

As if sensing his moody thoughts, Crookshanks nestled deeper on the sheets against Albus, and he let out a shaky sigh. There was nothing else for him to do now but wait and see what new misfortune tomorrow would bring.


	8. Chapter 8

Loud and cheerful though the Great Hall was, Albus couldn't help but feel as lonely and desolate as he'd ever felt in his life when he sat down at his table the next day. Rose was nowhere to be found (though Albus had his suspicions that she was in the library following her father's advice to beat Scorpius at her classwork this year), and it still looked like James and his cousins weren't going to be talking to him anytime soon.

If Albus was being honest, he felt betrayed as betrayed could be. He didn't realize that the words of a senile talking hat could affect his relationship with his family so much, but here he was, sitting alone at the Slytherin table, without a single friendly dace in sight. Except, of course, for Astoria, but she was sitting with a few other girls, and no way in hell was Albus about to go sit next to them without downing a bottle of Felix Felicis first. He poked at his cooling sausage and tried not to gag when he accidentally swallowed a big chunk of the meat, feeling his cheeks heat up when he heard Scorpius snicker from across the table.

"Need some help there, Potter?" He asked snidely, and it was all Albus could do not to jump across the table and strangle his skinny neck. He was antagonizing to the point where Albus was seriously considering the possibility that You-Know-Who was reincarnated into the shape and form of the platinum-haired first-year. That might explain why he was so bent on making Harry Potter's youngest son a total outcast from the rest of his House. 

"It'd _help_ if you never talked to me again," Albus practically growled. "What is your _damage_ , Malfoy?"

Scorpius blinked. "Did... did you just quote Heathers?" 

Albus tried to shut his mouth before he attracted flies. Scorpius, son of Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass, both of whom belong to the most extremist Pureblood Houses in the Wizarding World, had just picked up on his '80s muggle movie reference. He pinched himself, sure he was dreaming, but when he didn't wake up immediately he shook his head and looked up at Scorpius, who was eyeing him like he was a particularly odd specimen at a zoo.

"H...how do you know what-" "Albus!" A voice that was unmistakably Rose's suddenly rang out, interrupting what was undoubtedly going to be a very awkward bonding experience for the two boys in which they learned that the power of red scrunchies could bring them together instead of further away. Albus bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from smiling at the thought and turned to his cousin, who talked in a frenzied rush as she set her bag (overfilling with books, as per usual) and thick textbooks down on the seat beside him. 

"So I was at the library, studying for Professor Flitwick's Charms examination this afternoon, when all of a sudden I spotted Lorcan and Lysander Scamander sitting at a table near mine. They're huddled over something, and I can barely get a glimpse at it from where I'm writing down notes, so I pull up a chair and go over to their table. Turns out they smuggled in their smart phones from back home and were trying to charm it to work despite Hogwarts's anti-Muggle technology barriers! And they were almost successful, too. Lorcan's iPhone actually turned _on_ before it exploded and set the table on fire-" at that, Rose grinned a bit maniacally and took a breath before hurriedly continuing on, "-and nobody's hurt, thank God, but they were immediately escorted out of the library, so now we need to go back and try to figure out what type of spell left that residue on the table before the librarian and Filch haul it out."

Scorpius stared at Rose as if he'd never seen anyone quite like her before. "...Are you mad?"

Rose jumped a little, only now noticing him sitting across the table from Albus with a short of dazed expression on his sharp face. He had been quiet during her entire ramble, but now he seemed to have jumped out of his little reverie to give her a sneer that could rival that of his father's, if what Albus had been told about Draco was true. 

"Hasn't your mother ever taught you that it's rude to listen in on other people's conversations, _Malfoy_?" The redhead asked icily, and Scorpius scowled at her.

"It's hard not to when the people are talking louder than if they were yelling into a megaphone, _Weasley."_ Scorpius shot back. "Besides, you can't tell what traces of a spell are left in the environment- that's a 5th-year spell we're talking about, spells that Aurors are taught, not nosy 1st-years like you." 

Rose gave him a big, challenging smile. "Maybe I'm just _smarter_ than you, and that's how I know how to cast a spell of that caliber. Ever think of that?"

"You wish." Scorpius muttered disdainfully as he stood up from the table. "Well, have fun getting in trouble and having to attend three weeks of detention with Professor McGongall. I'll see you around, Potter. ...Weasley."

With that, he walked off dramatically from the table and out of the Great Hall. Rose shook her head in disbelief after him as she watched the huge oak doors creak shut after his retreating figure walked out of sight. 

"By Merlin's beard, what a jerk! Is _that_ who you're going to have to room with for seven years?" Rose asked, voice dripping with sympathy. She stood up from the table and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and against her hip, pulling her heavy textbooks into a similar fashion against her thigh. Albus copied her movements and grabbed his things from the table.

"Why is it only now that you see the full extent of the trials and tribulations I'm about to experience? Was my word that he was a big prat not enough for you?" Albus shook his head wonderingly but followed her out of the Great Hall regardless. Rose walked alongside him, thoughtfully quiet as she pondered his question.

"Well, you do tend to be a bit dramatic at times, Albus." She said gently, turning her head to give her cousin a teasing smile stretched across her tanned, freckly face. "You'd wear nothing but all black and dye your hair green if Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny had anything to say about it."

"Not green!" Albus protested. "Blue, perhaps. Or red. But most certainly _not_ green."

"Of course, of course," Rose said loftily as they made a sharp right at the end of the hallway. The stone corridor echoed with the sound of their footsteps as they walked past countless of doors and turns, and Albus couldn't help but wonder how Rose was navigating the castle so easily after only a week of school. Before he could ask her, however, they arrived at the library's entrance. 

Rose opened the door quietly, and Albus tried (and failed) to suppress the gasp that flew from his lips as he looked around the library in awe.

He had never seen so many books in one place before, not even at Hermione's office, where she worked for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and had alphabetically organized every single book on goblins, elves, merpeople, trolls, giants, Graphorns, Lobalugs, Bundimuns, Fwooper, Hippogriffs, and phoenixes she could get her hands on. There had been hundreds of those, maybe even a thousand, but it could not compare to the immense size of Hogwarts's library and the one hundred and five bookshelves it contained. 

Students were hurriedly studying at tables, trying to cram in as much information as they could before their classes started. The cacophony of flipped parchments grated on Albus's ears, but he didn't have time to dwell on it before Rose pulled him over to a rather burnt table, which looked freshly set on fire although there was no smoke coming from the damaged wood. 

"An anti-odor spell the librarian probably put over the library before she could fetch Filch to come and haul the table out of here," Rose explained, as if reading Albus's mind. Albus watched as she subtly took out her wand and whispered an incantation far too quickly for him to understand before a sprinkling of fine, dark powder dusted itself onto Rose's fingers. 

"What is that?" Albus whispered quietly. Rose's face contorted into concentration as she examined the powder.

"I have no idea," Rose muttered in disappointment. "What spells could they be using if even I can't understand what it is?"

Albus choked back a laugh and patted her back. "We'll just go up to them later at lunch and ask them directly."

"I have a feeling it'll be quite some time before we see them at lunch again," Rose said darkly. "They're going to be in detention for the rest of the term for something like this."

Albus shuddered. "Maybe it's best we don't try to charm our phones to work here, anyway. A term's worth of detention isn't worth playing Temple Run over, Rose."

"It's the principal of the thing, Albus." Rose sniffed but reluctantly allowed herself to be led away from the table and out of the library. "They're using highly dangerous spells and _I,_ for one, want to know which ones."

Albus stared at her. "You know, I used to think you were a carbon copy of Aunt Hermione. But now that I think about it, you're much more like Peeves."

"I've always wanted to be called a mischievous ghost that likes to be mean to innocent children," Rose sighed contentedly, and Albus laughed- but immediately stopped when he looked down at his watch (one of those galaxy ones that his father had, although he was really going to get a newer, nicer one one of these days- like Lily's Hello Kitty one, for instance). They had five minutes to get to Potions, which was on the opposite end of the castle- and that was without any distractions, like Rose bending down to grab a small, empty bottle from her bag to put the powder from the table in, for example. 

And James standing in front of him with a wild look in his eyes, for another. 

 

 

:

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself with the Heathers reference! Really, why not make Albus a total lover of '80s Muggle movies? I also wanted to stray from the "timeless" tone of canon for a little bit, if only to show that Hogwarts is somewhat more different from when Harry and the gang lived there. Remember, you guys, Next Gen takes place in a modern setting! Though I'm not going to make a lot more "modern" references, I wanted to strike a healthy balance between a classic fantasy like HP and a more modern one like Carry On by Rainbow Rowell. Also, after reading the Cursed Child, I desperately wanted my version of Scorpius to have a dorky side, so I suppose hero-worshipping Heather Chandler is a good start.  
> Sorry that this chapter was choppy and short! I've got a bunch of character development and fillers all over the place, but next chapter is going to be the steady theme of the story, I promise. And sorry as well for not uploading in forever. High school is *hard*, to say the least. But I'm surviving, so at least I have something to celebrate about!


	9. Chapter 9

If Albus was being perfectly honest, James looked a bit of a fright.

His scarlet tie sat askew on his neck, robes wrinkled and rumpled as though he'd just been in the tumble of a lifetime. Sweat dripped down his face, which was flushed as though he'd just ran a mile. Albus reached out a hand instinctively to straighten the collar of his shirt before remembering that he and James weren't exactly on friendly terms (if the seven days of zero communication between the two boys had anything to say on the matter), and let his and fall lamely to his side.

"Albus," James panted, gasping for breath. Rose looked up from where she had been closing the flap of her leather bag and scrambled to her feet, shouldering the straps and holding out a hand to steady her older cousin, who looked as though a strong wind might blow him over. Her brows furrowed in concern as she eyed the second-year, letting her hand linger on his shoulder for a second longer before taking it back.

"James?" She said, looking wary. "Are you alright?"

James didn't give any indication that he heard her as he looked down into his younger brother's face. His eyes were oddly bright as they locked onto Albus's, gleaming with fresh tears that threatened to give way at any given moment. Albus felt a wave of panic wash over him as he watched the corners of James's eyes overspill with liquid. James never cried- not even when they were young, and they had stolen Harry and Ginny's old brooms from the broom closet in the back of the house. James had fallen onto his head from ten feet off the ground almost as soon as they mounted the dusty Nimbuses, and was immediately taken to St. Mungo's to get stitches. Albus had been in near tears as he watched the healers fuss over the deep cut on the side of James's head, but the older boy barely paid them any attention as he begged Ginny to save him a spot on her team, the Holyhead Harpies, for when he was old enough to play Quidditch.

 James Potter just didn't cry. It was a fact of life that Albus had made peace with a long time ago. So what could _possibly_ make someone who claimed that their tear ducts dried up and shriveled when they were a baby cry so intensely that their entire body was wracked with sobs? Whatever the answer was, Albus wasn't sure if he wanted to know. A feeling of impending doom rose the hair on the back of his neck as James finally spoke.

"G-Grimmauld Place," he finally choked. "It burned down."

Albus stared at his brother for a very long time.

"Grimmauld Place" and "burned down" didn't exactly fall into the same sentence. It had magical barriers surrounding it from the block it stood on to Timbuktu. Fireproofing the house, anti-flood charms, and intruder hexes was a basic standard for wizarding households to upkeep- especially ones that lived in such an old, grand house that had survived a whopping two centuries without incident, like Grimmauld Place.

"Mum and Dad sent me an owl this morning," James rushed on, the words coming out of him faster and faster. "They told me that they were okay, that nobody was hurt, but that somebody had broken into the house and set it on fire. They said that they would've sent you a letter as well, but that you never answer their owls."

His tone turned from bitter and anguished to accusing in a manner of seconds. Albus balled his hands into fists and opened his mouth to make a scathing remark, but Rose beat him to it.

"Well, Albus _would've_ if he weren't so afraid his parents would follow in his _brother's_ footsteps and disown him from the family." She said severely, positioning her body so that she was slightly in front of the Slytherin in an openly protective stance. "And besides, that isn't the point _,_ James. Did they see who the intruder was?"

Grateful for the change of topic, Albus nodded vigorously. "Yeah, did they? It must've been a really powerful wizard if they were able to break into Grimmauld Place long enough to set the whole house on fire."

James eyed Rose cautiously for a few seconds before turning his attention to Albus.

"They have no idea who did it. Right now, they're betting their money that it's a Death Eater, but aside from that they have no clue as to who could've done it." He wiped the tears off of his face with the back of his hand as he spoke. Looking deep in thought, Rose absently toyed with the fraying clasp of her bag beside Albus. He stared at the fingers clicking the bronze clasp against the bag as he mulled over James's words.  If he were a Death Eater, setting the house of the man who viciously murdered his leader on fire would be a pretty good way to get revenge. But it didn't explain how on Earth the intruder could've been powerful enough to break the barriers long enough to set the house on fire without checking to see if the occupants were inside the house in the first place if they _really_ wanted to inflict damage. He'd also want to comb the house for valuables, maybe something he thought was particularly noteworthy or precious to Harry, before he indulged in  incendiarism. 

"Did they take anything of value?" Albus wondered aloud. 

"Seeing as though everything in the house burned down, it's a bit hard to find out whether they were wanted to steal Lily's piggy bank or not, Albus," James rolled his eyes like he always did when he thought Albus was being an idiot- which was to say, often. "What does it matter?"

"No, I actually think Albus is onto something here," Rose said thoughtfully. "They might've wanted something in the house all along instead of only burning it down. After they stole the object, they might've set fire to the house in order to cover their tracks, just like in those old Muggle mystery novels."

"You know, they found traces of a modified spell in the air when they went back to the house. It was like a sort of permanent Incendio of a sort- like Greek fire, which can't be put out after it's set." James rubbed his chin. "But what do you think they were after?"

"I-"

Students began flooding the halls, chatting idly about this and that as they made their way to their classes. The loud, indistinguishable talking broke the silence of the corridor's previously perfect silence, and Rose shrugged helplessly as she was swept alongside the crowd. Albus called after her, but it was no use; they'd have to continue their conversation later. 

James tugged at his sleeve. "Come find me at lunch, okay? We need to find out who did this, and why."

With that, he disappeared along the current of students. Albus stared after him incredulously. _Figures that after a week of snubbing me, the only way James would ever talk to me is for nothing short of arson._

* * *

Although he was fifteen minutes late to Potions (he blamed the moving staircases and his own lack of navigation), Professor Slughorn was so engrossed in his lesson on the Boil-Cure potion that he didn't notice Albus slipping into an unoccupied seat in the back. Letting out a relieved sigh, he put his bag down and closed his eyes, reflecting on what he knew. Somebody- a very _powerful_ somebody- had snuck into his house, most likely stole something of importance, and then set Grimmauld Place on fire without killing anyone inside. But why? What was the object, and _why_ had they thought it was a better course of revenge for them to steal it than to, say, kill Harry, Ginny, and Luna?

Albus groaned softly. His head throbbed painfully, and he put his head very gently on his desk, Professor Slughorn's directions on how to take the cauldron off the fire before adding the porcupine quills to the potion a gentle lullaby that slowly eased him to sleep. Until-

"Had a rough day?" Astoria whispered sympathetically. Albus's head jerked off the table. Astoria Zabini smiled down at him, and he hastily ran his fingers through his messy black hair as he tried to smile back.

"You can say that again," he said under his breath, trying to save his mental breakdown for another day when he wasn't talking to a pretty girl who was smiling at him like he _wasn't_ going slowly insane. Astoria hummed under her breath and reached for her bag, retrieving a small, wrapped piece of candy that she placed in the palm of his hand. When he looked at her questioningly, she grinned and said, "It's a little Pick-Me-Up I got from Weasley Wizard Wheezes. It helps with headaches, stomachaches, and all the other aches out there. Here- try one."

Looking up to make sure that Professor Slughorn wasn't paying attention, Albus unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth. It was as if lightning had zapped him- he stood up straight, the hair on the back of his neck raising as all his jumbled, chaotic thoughts melted under the candy's influence. A growing feeling of contentment warmed his chest as he swallowed the tiny white disk, and he turned back to Astoria, thanking her as profusely and quietly as he could. 

"It's okay, Albus, really," she assured him. "You looked like you needed it. Besides, I have a whole package in the girl's dormitory. Really, don't sweat it."

Astoria's smile made him feel warm in a way that Albus thought wasn't because of the candy's effect. It lasted throughout the lesson, even as he forgot to take the cauldron off the fire before putting the porcupine quills inside and Professor Slughorn gave him a very disappointed look as boils started to botch on his wrinkled face. It lasted even as he walked out the door and down to the Great Hall, where James and Rose were waiting for him with no idea what would happen next. 

It even lasted when he accidentally spilled his pumpkin juice all over Scorpius's robes on his way to the Gryffindor table, and he nearly hexed him into oblivion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually wrote this entire chapter a day ago, but then my computer crashed and all hell broke loose. But I promise, I'm going to try to update as much as I can from now on! And thank you all for the reviews, it honestly encourages me so much and makes this a pleasure to write for you all :)


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